


Tea Time

by kcthekat



Series: The Sacred 28 Series [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: the sacred 28
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 00:42:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcthekat/pseuds/kcthekat
Summary: Summary: Fifteen years after the final Battle of Hogwarts, Blaise Zabini has tea with an old schoolmate. [Spoilers for The Sacred 28]





	Tea Time

SPOILERS for _The Sacred 28_!

Summary: Fifteen years after the last battle of Hogwarts, Blaise Zabini has tea with an old schoolmate.

* * *

It was noon.

Blaise sipped at his tea. The silence stretched on, but he felt no need to fill the empty space. In fact, he found his companion's tense, wordless glare quite amusing.

"Aren't you going to try some tea?" he asked at last, lips quirked.

Finally, Padma unlocked her jaw. "I didn't come here for pleasantries, Zabini," she said sharply.

Blaise took his time taking another sip of his drink. "Yes, I can tell," he commented.

"I will say this once, Zabini." Padma leaned over the table, brown eyes sharp. "Keep your son _away_ from my Dev."

"And why should I?" asked Blaise calmly.

"My Dev is a good boy!" snapped Padma. "He's got good marks, he's brilliant, he's kind! And yours is – well, you know how he is! He's destroying Dev's life!"

Blaise put down his teacup with an eyeroll. "For the love of Merlin, Padma. They're _dating_. It's not as though Marseille is consuming your son's soul." He paused. "Though what a talent that would be."

Padma's features darkened. "My son has never, ever had such vile thoughts before, not in his whole fifteen years! He's always been a good, sensible boy, who has followed the rules! He liked girls – he still likes girls! It's just your strange child that has perverted him!"

Blaise sighed. "Padma, my son may have inherited my legendary good looks, and he may even be charming when he wishes it; however, he does not possess within him the ability to circumvent your son's supposed heterosexuality." Blaise raised a brow, before going on bluntly, "Your son is gay, Padma."

" _No, he isn't_!" she shrieked, slamming her fist on the table and knocking over their teacups.

"Yes," said Blaise, delicately fixing his sugar, "he is." He settled a look on Padma's enraged features. "And if you had ever bothered to have an honest conversation with the boy, you would know that."

"Your son has twisted him," said Padma, now close to tears. "It's your boy, that's what it is."

"Look," said Blaise, shifting to cross his legs under the table, "my son is a prickly little bastard who is very difficult to love. I can assure you, if your Dev cares so much for him, it was through no effort on Marseille's part."

"I don't care," said Padma stiffly. "Marseille lured him in with some sort of – I don't know, trickery or something!"

"You mean like witchcraft?" asked Blaise, smirking.

Padma narrowed her eyes at him. "Whatever it is, I'm sure he learned it from you. I remember how you were in school. And given your strange, immoral family, it's no surprise that your son is messed up, too!"

Blaise's eyes sharpened a bit. "And what do you mean by that, Padma?" he asked lightly.

"You know very well what I mean!" Padma huffed. "Your mother had no respect for the sanctity of marriage, either! And now you and your little harem parade your – swinger relationships in front of everyone to see! It's appalling!"

At this, Blaise snorted. "Padma, either you don't know what 'swingers' really are, or you have a great misunderstanding of my marriage."

"It's unnatural and bizarre, that's what I know! Your whole family is! Children from multiple fathers, all living together - "

"Not that it's any of your business, but the most bizarre thing about my marriage," cut in Blaise smoothly, "is that I never get to decide where we go on family vacations because I'm constantly getting outvoted. Other than that, I can assure you, we are quite normal." At Padma's glare, he continued more coldly, "Padma, my family is full of exceedingly attractive people who would go to the ends of the earth for each other. Your family, on the other hand, is full of average looking people who apparently don't love each other very much at all. I consider mine the superior by far."

Padma's features widened with shock. "How dare you imply that I don't love my son?" She put a hand to her heart, her eyes shining. "He is my world!"

"Are you sure?" asked Blaise. "What would you do if – say, for example – he _didn't_ end his relationship with Marseille?"

Padma hesitated, her dark eyes flickering. Then she schooled her features into a stiff glare. "If – if Dev were to submit to such a strange lifestyle, we would – we would be forced to disown him."

"Hm," said Blaise. "Seems like a strange way to show love."

"It's for his benefit!" said Padma adamantly. "We wouldn't _want_ to do that! Dev is our only child!" When Blaise merely raised a brow, Padma leaned over the table and hissed, "Just tell your bloody son to leave Dev alone, or else – "

"Or else what, Padma?" interrupted Blaise, his voice deceptively soft. Padma balked, and Blaise narrowed his eyes on her, fingertip tracing the rim of his teacup. "Surely you weren't about to threaten my son, were you..?"

Padma paled. "Of course not," she said quietly. "I would never harm a child."

"Good." Blaise observed her for a few seconds, and then he motioned for Padma to wait, before waving over a waitress to refill their tea that Padma had spilled. She glared at him while he got his tea, stirred in some sugar, and then took a sip. Finally, he looked up at her and said, "Tell me, Padma – since you were a Ravenclaw in school, I'm sure you have scores of dictionaries at home – what does the term 'unconditional' mean?"

Padma's jaw tightened.

"Well?" asked Blaise when she didn't response. "What does it mean?"

"It means 'without condition'," said Padma stiffly.

"Precisely," said Blaise. "Now, would you say you have that sort of love for your son?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Padma tearfully. "I love Dev more than life itself."

"No," said Blaise sharply. "You love who you _want_ him to be. Right now, he's being himself, and you're threatening to cast him out of your life because of it."

"I just want what's best for him!" Padma gripped the table. "But this path he's on – it will only make his life that much harder!"

"Really?" asked Blaise skeptically. "Because of who? People like you?" At Padma's stare, Blaise waved a hand. "Sounds to me like it's your reaction that needs to change, not Dev's teenage relationships. You're the difficulty here, not Dev or Marseille."

When Padma fell silent, Blaise sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "Your son is fifteen, Padma. He's underage. So, if you would like, you can force him to break it off with Marseille. And I have a feeling that is probably what you will do. And at first, you will be satisfied, because Dev will do his best to please you… for a little while." The two parents locked gazes. "But in a few years, Dev will finally realize what you've done. And he will see, as clearly as you have drawn it, the line in the sand where your love and support for him ends. And he will know that it wouldn't take some heinous crime to cause you to stop loving him… but instead a simple relationship."

Padma stared.

"One day," went on Blaise quietly, "Dev will realize that you've been holding him accountable for a set of terms and conditions he never even agreed to. And he will resent you for it." Sitting back, Blaise unfolded his arms and picked up his teacup again. "But he's your child," said Blaise lightly, settling an unwavering look on Padma. "Do as you please."

Padma and Blaise both remained quiet for a few minutes. Finally, Padma spoke again, a single tear moving down her cheek.

"It's not – it's not just me," she whispered at last, not looking at him. "I want Dev to come home more than anything. But – his father, my husband – he is very strict. He will never, ever allow Dev to come home ever again if he continues with this. He may even – hurt him."

Blaise tilted his head. "It sounds like you chose a pretty terrible husband." Padma's lips curled in a frown, and Blaise raised both brows. "Unless… you didn't choose him at all." At Padma's crestfallen expression, Blaise sighed and leaned forward. "Well, if that is the case, then you may very well have an important decision to make soon." Padma looked up at Blaise. "You will have to decide between your husband… and your son."

Padma swallowed. "I don't – I don't know if I can do that. My parents arranged us, they – they chose my husband for me and…"

"It is difficult, isn't it," said Blaise expressionlessly, "...being forced to decide between your family's approval and someone you care for more than anything?" Padma looked up again, her glassy eyes wide. "Good thing you get to make that decision as an adult," went on Blaise lowly, "and not as a frightened teenager in danger of losing his home."

Padma dropped her gaze again.

After taking one last sip of his tea, Blaise stood and straightened his robes. "Think carefully, Padma, about your next course of action, for it will have far-reaching consequences." He paused. "You know, I wonder what your sister Parvarti would do in this situation."

Padma's head jerked up, eyes filling with tears again.

"I can't help but think," said Blaise, looking down at Padma, "that she would have been a great deal more understanding than you've been. And in all likeliness, she would be horrified that you're even considering such a thing as casting out your own son." He shrugged. "But then again, what do I know? Being as …strange and immoral as I am?"

With that, Blaise deposited some gold on the table and left.

* * *

_One Week Later_

"Look, look! I got this one today!"

Shifting to peer behind him, fifth-year Dev Basu looked over his shoulder at fourth-year Marseille Zabini and flashed him the Chocolate Frog card he'd gotten. Marseille, who sat against one side of a stone arch, peered over Dev's shoulder and rolled his eyes.

"You're too old to collect those stupid cards," said Marseille, smirking. "Gryffindork."

"Pfft." Dev turned back around and re-settled against Marseille's torso, where he reclined comfortably in the other boy's arms. "Lots of people collect Chocolate Frog cards. And one day, mine are going to be worth a fortune, because they will be in pristine condition!" He carefully tucked it into his folder, smiling when he felt Marseille put a chin on his shoulder and hold him a little tighter.

"At least it's better than those rocks you carry around," murmured Marseille, his smirk deepening.

Dev laughed. "Rocks are very cool! You just don't know what you're talking about." Dev set his card collection aside and let the back of his head fall against Marseille's shoulder. Together, they looked out over the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Have you heard from your parents?" asked Marseille after a few minutes of silence.

Dev slumped a little in his arms. "No," he said quietly. "Nothing yet."

Marseille paused before slipping one of his hands over Dev's, linking their fingers together. Dev smiled at this, turning to tuck his head under Marseille's chin. "It'll be alright," said Dev, forcing himself to sound cheery.

"Of course," was Marseille's stoic response.

A few minutes later, something caught Marseille's eye. It was a person walking up to the front entrance of Hogwarts. Leaning over a bit – but not too far, as they were quite high up – Marseille squinted. "Dev." He shook his boyfriend a little to stir him. "Doesn't that look like your mum?"

Blinking, Dev sat up, pulling away from Marseille. His eyes widened when he spotted her. "It is!" Suddenly, Dev looked terrified. "Oh, Merlin. What's she doing here? What if – she – what's going on?"

"Well, you won't find out up here," said Marseille, hopping down and tugging Dev with him. Together, the two went down the winding staircases until they came to the Great Hall, where Padma Basu was entering, the doors shutting behind her as the pair appeared.

Marseille stopped a few feet away, his expression flat and guarded. Dev, on the other hand, took a few steps forward, eyes flickering and fingers curling nervously in front of him. "Mum?"

Padma paused and did not approach him. "Dev," she said, before looking over his shoulder at Marseille, who folded his arms and stayed where he was. "Dev, I – " Padma looked back at her son. "I must tell you something."

Dev's eyes widened, and he took a step back from her. Marseille moved up to stand next to him.

Padma took in a deep breath. "Your father and I are divorcing," she said at last. Then she moved up to him and reached out, taking his hand. "He could not accept you, but I – I will not let you go. I love you too much. So – so even though I can't say I'm thrilled with you and … your boyfriend," she swallowed tightly and finally managed to give a real smile through her tears, "I cannot lose you. You mean too much to me."

Dev looked down at her hand in his. "Really?" he whispered. "You left Father… for me?"

Padma nodded tearfully. "Yes, Dev. I love you so, so much."

Dev turned to look at Marseille, who met his gaze and quirked his lips at a smile. With an elated noise, Dev turned back to his mother and wrapped her up in his arms. When he pulled away again, he was crying. Marseille calmly handed him a handkerchief.

Padma shifted to look at Marseille. "Having tea with your father was interesting," she admitted with a teary laugh. "He cares for you quite a lot."

Marseille blinked. "He's an acceptable father, yes."

"Merlin," muttered Padma. "You are Blaise made over." Dev laughed happily and took Marseille's hand with one of his own, grabbing Padma's with his other.

"Come on, Mum. Have lunch with us while you're here."

Padma smiled, the last of her tears drying. "Thank you, darling. I would love that."

With that, Dev began chattering all about his new Chocolate Frog card, and Quidditch, and school, and his friends, and Marseille, of course.

And Padma was happy to listen.


End file.
